


Striking Colors

by jemmaline



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Help, I don't know what I'm doing, Slow Burn, this is my first fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmaline/pseuds/jemmaline
Summary: When Adora deserts The Horde after spending her whole life as a pirate, Captain Shadow Weaver will stop at nothing to track down her first mate. Catra too will stop at nothing to find Adora, but maybe for different reasons entirely.I'm writing a Catradora Pirate AU by request of my roommate.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Heave to

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever please be nice thank you  
> The problem with naming things after pirate terms is everything sounds silly.

If Adora had said that she didn’t expect Catra to attack the village with all she had, it would have been a lie. Still, only this morning she had been rolling her eyes at Bow who was attempting to throw bits of rolls across the breakfast table at Glimmer, blinking in and out in a sparkling dodge, giggling. And now, here she was, sprinting down narrow cobbled streets towards where she could hear the screams, smell the smoke, her blonde ponytail whipping to hit her in the face at each quick corner.

It had been a few weeks since she had least seen her friend and when she closed her eyes, she still saw Catra’s betrayed face when she told her she couldn’t go back to The Horde and its captain. The way the girl’s ears tilted back almost imperceptibly, the way she self-consciously held her elbow with one arm before she noticed Adora looking too closely and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. It had been over then; Adora knew Catra’s habits well enough after years of growing up on the seas, on dingy docks, in dark streets, to recognize when Catra’s determination hit the point of no return. There were days where Adora could go with her to wherever she went, that red and angry place, but there was no way to bring her back to her rare soft spots. Only time could do that. Time and few well-placed scritches behind her ears. 

Now the thought of seeing her again made Adora feel ill. She’d had a hard time eating lately, though the food at Bright Moon Manor was phenomenal. This morning was the first time she’d managed to eat a full breakfast without feeling guilty that she wasn’t swallowing hard tack and near-molding citrus fruits like her crewmates. Eggs, buttered pastries, fresh bacon. It was delicious. But the moment Sea Hawk announced the attack on the harbor, it had nearly all come up again. With any luck though, being well-fed would provide her with an advantage. Catra was a dirty fighter and a fast thinker, but she was perpetually exhausted and malnourished. Adora knew how that affected your dodges and attacks. 

As she drew closer to the harbor, the smell of fish mixed with the smell of blood, the two salty and old, nearly indistinguishable if she wasn’t so familiar with both. She slowed down once the ship came into view. It was more hulking than she remembered it, but of course most of her time was spent  _ on _ it, and if you were smart, you were more afraid of what could happen on deck than the ship itself. The Horde was all dark wood, barnacles encrusting its hull, holding on with a death grip. From here you could only see the off-white sails in full, billowing form, but Adora’s hands instinctually ached from the memory of pinpricks from sewing up the gashes the sails regularly accrued. The gangplank was down, settled among boxes on the dock and from her hiding place behind a few barrels, Adora watched Kyle struggle with carrying whatever goods they had stolen up into the ship. At the front of the ship was a roughly carved figurehead, an abstract kind of orb, with tendrils rearing up from it, cast in melted down gold. She and Catra had often laid on the deck of the ship at night, looking up at the stars, speculating what the figurehead was, until the rocking of the boat lulled them into a soft quiet, neither of them admitting what they really thought about the carved behemoth- that it was terrifying. 

From her left, Adora heard a scream, high and wild, and she doubled back to sneak up on the row of merchants’ stalls that had almost been abandoned on the wharf. Under a stall selling salted fish, there was a teen boy hiding. Next to the stall was Lonnie, leaning against a wall, boot pushed up against the tented structure, seemingly ready to topple it. She had apparently already spotted the boy, but was taking her time with the destruction.

“Lonnie!” Adora shouted, approaching as fast as she could, and drawing her sword, but keeping it low, in case talking was an option with her old friend.

“Adora?” When Lonnie turned, the boy tried to make a run for it but Lonnie snatched him by the shirt collar without taking her eyes off Adora and tossed him to the ground. “Seriously?” she said down at him.  
“Come on, Lonnie. Let him go,” said Adora, still not raising her sword.

Lonnie looked her up and down then, taking in her clean hair, her shining boots, and her new nice clothing. On the ground, the boy groaned. “I almost didn’t believe Captain Weaver when she said you left.”

Adora didn’t say anything, just flicked her eyes to the boy.

“Fine,” Lonnie said. “Get out of here before I torch you with your goods, kid.” The boy scampered off past Adora into the village, leaving Lonnie to stare at Adora. She reached for the handle of her knife slowly. “They’re looking all over for you, you know. The captain and Catra.” Lonnie laughed. “Hordak made Catra first mate. The Captain was pissed.”

Adora’s ears rushed and for a moment she could imagine this was all a dream. That she would wake up any moment on the ship, ready to scrub the deck with her best friend. Then she heard another scream from the distance and reality snapped back into place like the cracking of a skull.

“Where is she now?” said Adora.

Lonnie rolled her eyes, fully taking out her knife now. “I don’t know. Around. Raiding homes most likely.”

“Tell her to stop,” said Adora.

“Come on, Adora. Just come back. You know we’d have you in a second. It’s not like we have a strict code of honor.”

“I’m a deserter and you know it.”

Lonnie’s stance faltered and she almost looked sad then. “You know I have to kill you then,” she said, straightening up and tightening her grip on her knife.

Adora swallowed. 

Lonnie lunged forward and Adora brought her sword up, readying herself for the clang of metal, but before it came, something rushed at Lonnie, a streak of red and black, knocking her onto the stone streets. 

Lonnie swore loudly, jumping to her feet, only to stop at the sight of a small girl, knife drawn, the blade glinting in the early afternoon light, almost as bright as her two heterochromatic eyes, which were trained keenly forward.

“Hey Adora,” smirked Catra, and Adora’s heart swept heavily up, like a wave peaking right before its crash. 


	2. Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra tries to take in Adora after orders from Captain Weaver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such slow going! I am a grad student with depression lol

Captain Weaver had been pissed that morning. Things were never particularly sunny for Catra on The Horde but when she woke to Kyle hesitantly poking his head through the door to her quarters to inform her that the captain demanded her presence, she knew it was going to be one of her harder days. Catra had smoothed her fur as best as she could before throwing her hat on and then sliding her knives into their places on her hips. The Captain didn’t like to be kept waiting but one of Catra’s only sources of entertainment since Adora had left was annoying Weaver in small doses. Larger trouble was likely to cause her a lot of pain but little things, like being late to attend to Weaver’s demands were worth it for the twist of annoyance on her captain’s face. 

Before ducking out the door, Catra had let herself stare at the bunk below hers where a ratty old blanket was still folded neatly, as if it was waiting for its owner to return. For the hundredth time that month, Catra considered shredding it to pieces with its claws to let it know it was being silly, ridiculous really. Adora was never coming back. She had left. She had made her decision and that was that. There were certain tattered things from Adora’s youth that would never see her again. Catra slammed the door behind her. 

Outside Captain Weaver’s quarters, Catra paused a moment before knocking. She tried to listen through the door for any indication of the captain’s mood- a crash of furniture, the storming of boots on warped wooden floors, a soft groan from Weaver, indicating the worst option of all- that the captain was in pain from all her old wounds and likely ready to take it out on her crew. Instead there was an eerie silence. Wait- maybe that was the worst option. That Weaver was eagerly awaiting her. She suppressed a shudder and for a moment, found herself waiting for an encouraging touch on her shoulder, a hand in hers. 

She was being stupid. Catra let her claws curl inwards, digging into her palm, until she felt the skin break. Then she knocked. Joke was on Weaver- the captain couldn’t hurt her anymore than Catra could hurt herself.

“Enter.” Captain Weaver’s voice creaked like the ship. Inside, her quarters were decked all in red and gold. Real gold. Rich burgundy hung from large windows that opened out onto the sea. It was a beautiful day today. In the distance, Catra could see Bright Moon. She wasn’t surprised. She also had not been surprised to see Captain Weaver seated at her desk- a monstrous thing covered in piles of gold coins and papers. She was leaning back in her chair, watching Catra expectantly from her one good eye. The other was covered with an eyepatch from which scars spidered out from under. Her face was a dead-fish white and her mouth was pinched into a tight small.

Catra stepped in softly to stand at attention in front of the desk. She hoped Captain Weaver could see the hatred that she herself could feel emanating from her chest. But then again, it wouldn’t matter. The captain had never concerned herself with anyone’s feelings other than a certain blonde first mate, who was no longer on the ship.

“Catra.” Sometimes Weaver could purr better than Catra. “As you no doubt have noticed, we are fast approaching Bright Moon.”

“Oh? I had no idea.” Catra tried to keep her tone as innocent as possible, walking the thin line between snark and what Weaver would find plausible stupidity. The captain tilted her head before standing. Catra tried to keep herself from flinching.

“Don’t be insolent, child. I have a task for you, while the crew deals with Bright Moon and I speak with Lord Hordak.” Captain Weaver made her way around her desk to appraise Catra’s small form where she stood. There was a second where Catra had thought the Captain might actually reach out to touch her, the way she had seen her do with Adora many times. Instead, Weaver’s mouth only curled in disgust. “Though I have never understood it, we both know Adora has a fondness for you. She will no doubt make her way to the harbor to protect the innocents of Bright Moon when we dock, if she hears of a fight. When that happens, you will be waiting for her. And you will do whatever it takes to bring her back aboard the ship. Understood?”

And Weaver had been right- here Adora was, sword drawn, beads of sweat adorning her forehead where strands of her hair had begun to fall out of her normally tight ponytail. Her lips were slightly apart, as if she was searching for a response to Catra’s old greeting. Lonnie groaned on the cobblestones, struggling to right herself. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Catra,” she said. Catra ignored her and kept her eyes trained on Adora. 

“You’re a mess,” she smirked. She watched as Adora’s expression shifted from surprise to familiar determination and her heart almost ached at the sight. 

“I leave for a few weeks and you retaliate by trying to kill my new friends, huh?” said Adora.  “I knew you were the jealous type but wow, Catra.” The teasing was reminiscent of old conversations in their bunk or while doing chores in the galley but there was no soft smile or playful shove from Adora. Just the glint of steel from a blade Catra had never seen Adora wield before.

It was huge, hefty, and the hilt was a pale gold with a small glowing stone of soft blue that reminded Catra of her old friend’s eyes. It was magnificent and completely different from the rusty shortsword Adora had been equipped with. Where had she gotten such a blade?

“Oh Adora. Your confidence is so cute. Bold for a girl surrounded by the enemy.” Her words were timed with Lonnie finally righting herself and turning to Adora, right after a quick glare in Catra’s direction.

“What do you want, Catra?” 

“Come back to The Horde. Captain Weaver wants her precious second mate back.”

Next to her, she heard Lonnie nearly choke. “She wants her back?”

“Shut up, Lonnie.”

“No, Lonnie’s right,” said Adora. She stepped forward and Catra countered by shifting around to the other side of her and adjusting her grip on one of her knives. Now she really was surrounded. And with Adora’s soft heart, it should be a piece of cake to snatch her. 

“I’m not going back. Don’t be ridiculous, Catra.”

“You don’t exactly have a choice.”

“We always have a choice,” said Adora, turning her back on Lonnie to look Catra in the eyes. Adora’s were pleading. Catra was reminded of when they were smaller, when Octavia or one of the larger members of the crew would beat up on her before Catra would find a place to hide in a barrel of old apples or behind a rack of cannon balls. Adora would find her and coax her out with those earnest blue eyes. “Come on, Catra.” 

_ Come on, Catra. _

As if any of that had meant anything. Anger twisted her stomach. The smell of smoke was getting stronger and Catra’s sensitive eyes stung and watered. “No, Adora, you always have a choice. And you made your choice. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”    
Before Adora could respond, Catra lunged forward, knife in hand, and Adora stumbled back, straight into Lonnie, who, blessedly, was ready. Lonnie pulled Adora into a chokehold and Catra strode forward to twist Adora’s sword out of her hands. 

But as she reached Adora, she watched the girl’s eyes focus on something behind her. She spun, too late, to see a flash of pink. A yelp came from Lonnie behind her and Catra swore. She turned back around only to be met with Adora’s sword to her throat. Next to her stood a shorter woman, pink hair braided elaborately, dressed in a silver and purple gown. She grinned. She was standing over a fallen Lonnie, who was looking confusedly up at her. The pink-haired girl reached down and gripped the front of Lonnie’s blouse and then they blinked out of view.

“Drop the blades, Catra,” said Adora. The tip of her fancy new sword tickled underneath Catra’s chin and she hissed, only clutching her knives tighter.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she laughed. 

The pink-haired woman appeared again next to Adora, this time without Lonnie, and bared her teeth. “Adora wouldn’t, but I would.” 

Catra laughed. “Sure you would, Sparkles.”

“Glimmer,” Adora murmured. Catra hated the soft way she said her name. She watched as the two women exchanged looks, had some unspoken argument. She hated that too. 

The pink girl, Glimmer, took a step back, but kept her white-gloved fists clenched. Catra couldn’t help but giggle. “Adora got you following her orders too, Sparkles?” Glimmer glared at her. 

“I  _ said _ to drop the blades, Catra. I may not kill you but I will take you back to Bright Moon. And I’m sure my friends there will be less kind than I am.” To her surprise, Adora’s sword lifted her chin up slightly, and dug into the soft flesh under her mouth. Adora had gotten bolder. Hm. Maybe this would be entertaining. She dropped her knives to the street with a clatter.

“Take me in, Adora. Let’s have a little fun.”


End file.
